


Strangers

by whenitstarted



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, coffee shop AU, who doesn't love coffee shop au's?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 01:43:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1450663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenitstarted/pseuds/whenitstarted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one with oblivious barista Cas and hopelessly flirty Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> This an AU, so no spoilers for anything.

Dean has lost count of how many times he's been in this fucking coffee shop. He and his brother get coffee every morning before work but then when the one they'd been going to closed down, they needed a new spot. They tried Starbucks one day but neither wanted to go into debt because of a cup of coffee, so they settled for one that they've been driving by for however long but never paid attention to.

It's a nice place, the inside is cozy and big enough that you don't have to talk to people while you wait for your order. It reminds Dean of the coffee house from Friends, because there are only a few tables and the rest are couches and chairs pulled into different spots everyday, so it can accommodate for large groups of people. Whenever they're here though, there is typically only a few other people. Other regulars heading to work, scattered around sipping coffees and dreading the day ahead of them.

This is Dean's favorite part of the day, though.

He stopped caring that staring isn't polite, that it's creepy as fuck. He doesn't care, because this guy who works there every weekday, minus Friday's, is beyond good looking. Sam noticed the very first time they came in, the way Dean changed the way he stood and put his stupid game face on, grinned his stupid grin that for whatever reason -it's beyond Sam, he doesn't get it but maybe that's because he actually knows his brother- makes most guys cave and blush and act all kinds of stupid.

This guy wasn't as...responsive, to Dean's behavior. Yes, his eyes stayed pretty much glued to Dean's face like it was the most beautiful thing in the world, but he hadn't said anything other than ask their order. When they left the first day, Dean made sure to catch the guy's blue eyes and wink at him. Happy with the answering blush, the two leave, Sam rolling his eyes at his big brother.

"Hey, wanna make a bet?" Dean had said, all those weeks ago.

"Probably not, no."

"Okay, I bet that tomorrow, cute barista man slips me his number. Twenty bucks."

Sam, knowing which bets to take and which to not take, clearly denies that one. The guy looked at Dean like he hung the moon, and no doubt his shameless flirting would have the guy giving in. So obviously, he was smart to not accept the bet.

Except, he wasn't because Dean didn't get his number on a napkin or the side of his cup or on the receipt. He got a fresh napkin, a cup with messy letters reading out "DEAN" and a receipt with his total on it.

What the fuck.

Weeks later, Dean is straight up pining after the man. He drops hints like it's no body's business. It would be embarrassing to watch if he wasn't rewarded with a blush from the man every once in a while.

His names Cas, and Sam remembers the day they learned that because he marks it off as the best day of his life because he almost,  _almost_  pissed his pants laughing.

"Thank you," Cas had said, watching Dean drop his change into the tip jar and nodding at the slightly taller man. To which Dean smiles, leaning his elbows against the counter top and looking up at the still nameless man, batting his eyelashes.

"So," he starts, and Sam had rolled his eyes. Idiot. "Is your name as pretty as your face?" And that alone, the stupidly cheesy pick up line had Sam coughing into his hand to hide his laugh.

He had blushed hard, and Sam understood his brother's crush. He's a cute guy, all embarrassed and shy, which isn't normally Dean's type, but he does seem quite nice.

And then, a little shakily, he had lifted his hand, pointing to what was obviously his name printed on his shirt; "Cas"

And that isn't what Dean is use to, he's use to flirty boys who bat their eyelashes and try and make him swoon, not trying to land a fucking date for weeks.

It's been a little over three months, roughly. Dean comes in one Friday without Sam, because the guy woke up late and didn't have time to shower and get coffee. He's in his usual suit, using a napkin dispenser as a mirror to try and knot his tie into place, but he doesn't get the chance because a familiar gravely voice asks him, "the usual?"

And so he nods, forgetting about his stupid tie because Cas doesn't work Friday's and he's here and Sam isn't so he doesn't need to worry about embarrassing himself and can maybe just be honest with him. And then obviously make up a story to tell Sam about how Cas was putty in his hands later, because you know. Reputation.

"I didn't know you worked Friday's," he starts, clearing his throat nervously while Cas makes his drink.

"I don't," he answers simply and Dean thinks that is going to be it and he can walk off with his tale between his legs to find a seat. But then he starts talking once the loud machine cuts out and he pours Dean's iced coffee, popping a straw in it and setting it in front of Dean. "I normally work Sunday through Thursday, but my co-worker needed today off, so I switched my Sunday shift with him is all."

"Oh," he nods, sipping at the drink. He doesn't want to go sit down because no one else is there and he doesn't want to leave because he's never talked to Cas alone before.

"Your uh, friend isn't here today," he notes, scratching the back of his head.

"Yeah, he woke up late or something," he shrugs, lifting his eyes to see blue ones already staring at him. "I think it was just an excuse because he wanted me to talk to you alone though." Which yeah, that's a lie, but he needs some sort of segue to get to the whole, flirting part where Cas realizes he loves Dean and will let Dean kiss him and do other girly things that Dean has been thinking lately.

"Why- why would he want you to talk to me?" His head is cocked and Dean wonders how he can be so attractive in a grown up, adult man way, but also look like a fucking curious puppy.

He sighs and hopes his cheeks aren't burning like he knows they are. "Because I've been flirting with you for months and haven't gotten anywhere with it. I think he's tired of hearing me bitch."

His eyes nearly pop out and he physically relaxes, sighing and bending forward to lean his elbows on the counter in front of Dean's. "I thought that you were with him," he admits with a shy flush to his high cheekbones. "I thought you were teasing him by flirting with me because you're both- you're both very handsome."

Dean laughs, eyes nearly watering because even that is fucking cute. "He's my little brother!"

"I am so embarrassed," Cas groans, pulling a pained face. "You must have thought I was awful and stupid and I'm sorry."

"I thought you were shy," he shrugs, calming down and leaning towards him just so. "It's okay, though. Sam wouldn't be my type anyways, he's a total dick," he says, and then as an after thought, adds, "and um, I wasn't teasingly flirting with you, because you're, uh, quite handsome yourself."

He only rolls his eyes at the comment, but Dean sees the tiny smile on his face. He's reaching out then, and Dean freezes because holy shit, he's about to kiss him, right here. So he closes his eyes and leans in, only to be met with a chuckle and hands on his neck. Tying his tie. Well, embarrassing.

Cas fixes it and cinches it up into place then, pulling a pen out of the jar and lifting Dean's suit jacket sleeve to reveal his forearm. He writes his number across Dean's wrist, even signing his name underneath.

He normally leaves the jacket on at work, because it looks formal and everybody else wears theirs, but he doesn't that day. He takes it off and hangs it on the back of his office chair, rolling his shirt sleeves up to the elbow because why would Dean Winchester not show off the ink on his arm? Hell, with all the work it took to get it, he aught to have it branded to his forehead.

Dean calls him on his lunch break, nervously tapping his fingers against the wood of his desk.

The date is set for seven that night, and yeah, maybe Dean left his door open so every one could hear him making said date...but who could blame him?

**Author's Note:**

> This is a day late too, oh my gosh I'm sorry! Oneshot number ten is here though!


End file.
